The One That Got Away (10 page)

Tossing the towel atop the clothes basket, Evie offered up a
wry smile, took the coffee from his outstretched hand and headed back towards
the bed, sitting cross-legged on it but pulling a sheet up around her legs to
keep her honest before taking her first sip.

He’d made the coffee
exactly
the
way she liked it.

Bastard.

She watched him pack in silence, wondering whether he still
needed to collect things from the serviced apartment he’d rented for the week or
whether over the course of the week he’d managed to bring everything here. He’d
worked here—she knew that much. Using her home office to stay in contact with
his London office and his Perth office. Getting up in the early hours of the
morning when his phone rang and heading downstairs while an urgent voice on the
other end of the phone demanded his attention. Rich man, but definitely still a
working man with responsibilities she barely understood.

But they’d done well together this past week, nonetheless. He
could be proud of that. They both could.

No need to do anything but smile once he was fully packed and
his attention returned to her once more. He knelt down beside her bed and took
her coffee from unprotesting hands and set it aside. He pressed butterfly kisses
to the wing of her eyebrow, the curve of her cheek and finally her lips. Tender,
this goodbye, and she reached up to trace his lips with her fingers, still
obsessed with the shape and sensuality of them.

‘Got everything?’ she asked quietly.

‘Yes. The rest is downstairs in your office.’

She leaned forward and kissed him lightly and then once more to
savour him. ‘Safe journey, Mr Black. Be happy.’ Then she pulled him into a
fierce hug and closed her eyes and memorised the feel of being in his arms. ‘I’m
happy. You need to know that I wouldn’t have missed one moment of this past
week. With you.’

His arms tightened around her, but he didn’t speak, just buried
his face in the curve of her neck, breathing in deep before slowly letting
go.

And then he picked up his bag and Evie closed her eyes so that
she didn’t have to see the set of his shoulders or the shape of his resolve as
he headed for the stairs.

She’d done all she could. It was up to him now.

Evangeline Jones knew exactly how to love hard and with no
regrets.

She needed a man bold enough to do the same.

EIGHT

Logan couldn’t get Evie out of his head. The long hours
of travel couldn’t shift her. The mountain of work that awaited him upon his
return served only to make him more aware of how much he wanted her around
after
the day’s work was done. One week after his
return to London and he couldn’t look at his bed without thinking of what Evie
would look like in it. Passion-blind and soaring. Shiny-slick and smiling in the
aftermath. He missed the brush of her shoulder against his as she cooked in her
kitchen. Being in her space; having her invade his. He hadn’t just tolerated it.
He’d embraced it. A sucker for a soft touch, she’d teased him. Or a hard
touch.

Any
kind of touch as long as it was
hers.

Only hers.

He didn’t know what to do with a need so fierce and large.
Didn’t know how to make her a part of his life without demanding too much.
Didn’t know how to balance Evie’s needs with his fear of one day losing control
of his own desires and going too far. Of becoming possessive and controlling.
Abusive. So many different ways to reach inside a person and tear them
apart.

He’d texted her when he’d arrived back in London. ‘Home,’ he’d
written.

And got a smiley face text in reply.

That was good, right? Not too needy or greedy on either side.
Letting Evie get on with her life without him stomping all over it. Letting him
get on with his.

No obsession here.

No overwhelming need to have her by his side.

Except that with each passing day Logan’s need to hear Evie’s
voice and feel her touch grew stronger.

He lasted a week. One week before he rang his brother during
Max’s working day on the pretext of getting Max’s opinion on converting an outer
London warehouse into residential units. Max’s speciality, not his. Was Max
interested in taking on the project? Developing an international profile?

Was Evie?

‘Since when have you been interested in redevelopment
projects?’ came his brother’s guarded reply.

‘Since staying with Evie in her warehouse apartment,’ he
countered. ‘I didn’t mind the experience.’

‘Well, aren’t you the lucky one?’ said Max with unmistakeable
bite. ‘Did it ever occur to you that the reason you liked the warehouse
apartment experience was because of the woman involved?’

‘If you’re not interested, all you have to do is say so,’
countered Logan coolly.

Silence from Max’s end. ‘I’ll talk it over with Evie,’ he said
grudgingly. ‘I don’t know that we’re ready to take the company international.
You looking to move on the warehouse fast?’

‘Don’t have to. Just letting you know it’s there. Any news on
the civic centre bid?’

‘Looks promising,’ said Max. ‘There are three bids left on the
table and one of them is ours.’

‘Good,’ said Logan. ‘Good. What do you know about Sinclair
House?’

‘You mean Mum’s latest charity? It’s a safe house for victims
of domestic abuse. She goes there once a fortnight and helps with meals or
something. Why?’

‘She hit me up for a donation. Apparently they need a new
roof.’ But Max’s answer had piqued Logan’s interest more than it had settled it.
‘What do you mean she goes there once a fortnight?’

‘Just what I said.’

‘She needs to stop that. It’s not safe.’

‘It’s a
safe
house, Logan. Heavy on
the security windows and doors. Six-foot fences.’

‘Yeah, and it’s full of God knows who.’

‘Mostly battered women and children, from what I can gather.
What exactly do you think they’re going to do?’

Logan shook his head. This was the difference between him and
Max. Max had no goddamn idea what people were capable of. ‘Desperate people do
desperate things.’

‘Yeah, and they also need help. What do you want me to do,
Logan? Tell her to stop? That’d work on her almost as well as it works on you.
You
talk to her if you’re that concerned about
it. Heaven knows she treasures every last scrap of attention you throw her.’

‘Hey, you’re the favourite.’

‘You know what? For all your legendary business acumen you’re
one blind son of a bitch.’

‘Language, little brother.’

‘Screw you. Don’t start with me, Logan, or I’ll serve it
straight back at you. Matter of fact I’m going to anyway. Why haven’t you called
Evie? Which, by the way, she predicted.’

‘What do you mean
predicted
?’

‘I mean when I asked her if she’d heard from you she said no,
that wasn’t part of the deal. What the
hell
kind of
deal is that?’

‘Look, Max—’

‘Don’t you “look, Max” me. You spend a week inside a woman’s
skin, she opens up her home to you and her life to you and a week later you
can’t be bothered to give her five minutes of your precious time? What is
wrong
with you?’

‘Nothing! I was just...giving her some space.’ A gaping pit was
beginning to form in Logan’s stomach at the thought that something might have
happened to her. ‘Is she all right?’

‘Evie’s
fine
, Logan. Just
peachy
, thanks for asking. She does her work, she goes
to the beach, she bought a Ducati road bike that goes from zero to one hundred
in six point nine seconds, but don’t let that alarm you. She’s taking
road-safety lessons from a former AMA Motocross champion called Duke, but don’t
let that bother you either. His manners are impeccable and he knows how to use a
phone.’

‘Hey, hold the PMS.’

‘You deserve the PMS. You’re treating a woman I respect and
admire like a whore and she’s letting you. Doesn’t make it right.’

‘If I’d wanted a sermon I’d have gone to church.’

‘Go to hell, Logan. I vouched for you. I practically threw Evie
at you, and
this
is how you repay me? By using her
up and walking away without a backward glance?
My
business partner.
My
friend. And your loss. I’ll
give your regards to Duke.’

And then Max hung up on him.

* * *

‘Who’s
Duke?’ asked Evie as she strode into
MEP’s outer office, head down and preoccupied, but not so unconscious that she
hadn’t caught the way Max had slapped his phone down on the desk, and there was
definitely no missing his scowl.

‘Duke’s the US motocross champion who’s teaching you how to
ride your new Ducati,’ said Max curtly. ‘Don’t ask.’

‘Huh,’ said Evie thoughtfully. ‘Am I enjoying the process?’

‘Immensely.’

‘Good for me,’ she said. ‘Because it’s a good idea. I take it
that was Logan on the phone?’

Max nodded.

Evie smiled; she couldn’t help it. ‘So what else have I been
doing?’

‘Not moping,’ said Max. ‘As a true friend I’m doing my level
best to ignore your current state of mope.’

‘Excellent,’ said Evie. ‘Good for you too.’

‘Do you remember how peaceful life was back in the days before
we got engaged and I made the idiotic mistake of introducing you to my family?’
Max asked with a great deal of wistfulness. ‘I do.’

‘Never mind, Max. You’ll fall in love yourself one day, lose
all sense of purpose, struggle mightily to keep your life on track and probably
fail miserably, but trust me; I will be there to point it out to you. It’ll be
my pleasure.’

‘Must be catching,’ said Logan.

‘What?’

‘PMS.’

‘Just for that I’m not bringing you back any lunch.’

‘I’ll remember that when I’m rich and
you
want lunch. No champagne. No caviar. No lobster.’

‘No problem. I’ve lived on tuna sandwiches before. I can do it
again.’

‘Maybe I should reassure Logan that you’re not interested in
his money,’ said Max. ‘Might help.’

‘Tell him whatever the hell you like,’ said Evie, doing an
about turn and heading for the door. ‘Maybe I could be flying fighter jets next
time he calls. Stunt biplanes.’

‘Get me a tuna sandwich,’ Max called after her. ‘And I won’t
tell him how much you’re missing him.’

‘Thank you.’

Evie heard the catch in her voice, but she kept on going
because if she turned around and saw sympathy in Max’s eyes, her carefully
constructed world without Logan in it would probably come tumbling down. ‘For
that I’ll bring you two.’

* * *

Logan
called her that night, at her apartment
rather than at work, and for that Evie was grateful. Eight-thirty p.m. her time
and eleven-thirty a.m. in London. Middle of a businessman’s day and she wondered
where he was calling from, whether he’d squeezed her in between meetings, and
most of all she clutched the phone and closed her eyes and concentrated on the
sound of his voice saying her name. Some time soon she was going to have to
speak, but not yet. Not until he said her name again.

Which he did.

‘Hey,’ she said. Best she could do—she was fresh out of amiable
greetings.

‘Max tells me you bought a Ducati.’ Guess Logan was all out of
pleasant small talk too.

‘So I heard,’ offered Evie.

‘Which one?’

‘The red one that goes really, really fast.’ And there ended
Evie’s knowledge of motorbikes and her taste for silly lies. ‘I didn’t buy a
Ducati, Logan. Your brother’s messing with you.’

‘He’s not the only one.’

‘Could be you bring it on yourself,’ she murmured. ‘Best
guess.’

‘I should have called you a week ago,’ he said.

‘Only if you wanted me to feel valued.’ She let her comment
hang for a moment, because she was nobody’s pushover and he needed to know that.
‘If, on the other hand, you were sorting out a few issues, like, say, the
difference between wanting to stay in touch with someone and being so
unhealthily obsessed with someone that you couldn’t live without them... If a
little bit of thinking time bought you some clarity on that issue...I’d call
that time well spent.’

She could almost hear his brain churning.

‘Generous of you,’ he said finally, his voice sounding as if
he’d just eaten a mile of gravel road.

‘For you I can be generous.’

‘So how’ve you been?’ More gravel. Filler conversation.

‘Okay.’ Wasn’t as if he was going to call her a liar. ‘Work’s
been slow and I’m thinking of painting the ceiling of my apartment dark
red.’

‘Evangeline, parts of your ceiling are three storeys high.’

‘I own half a construction company, Logan. There’s this
equipment called scaffolding.’

‘I’m assuming you have people called employees as well?’

‘So speaks the multimillionaire.’ Evie rolled her eyes. ‘I like
painting. It’s therapeutic. Besides, if you want something done right, do it
yourself.’

‘Don’t say that,’ he said with what Evie could have sworn was
an underlying note of panic.

‘Why not?’

‘Because I’ve just created two new senior operations manager
positions and filled them and I’m now on the hunt for a senior finance
manager.’

‘So...you’re expanding?’

‘Restructuring. I was causing bottlenecks. I needed to let go
of some of the decision making. We’ll see how it goes.’

‘You don’t sound convinced.’

‘If you want something done right, do it yourself.’

‘So I hear,’ she said with a grin. ‘Just think of all the bold
new
projects you’ll be able to put your mark on
before handing over the boring bits.’

‘There is that,’ he said. ‘I want another week with you.’

‘Before you hand over the boring bits?’

‘You’re not boring, Evangeline. You’re challenging and wise and
I’m a little bit terrified of you, but I wouldn’t call you boring.’

‘Would you call me submissive?’

A long pause from Logan; as if he knew he’d be judged on his
answer. ‘Not in general,’ he said finally. ‘Although on occasion you’re willing
to relinquish control to a more dominant sexual partner.’

‘Good answer,’ she said softly.

‘Come to London, Evie. Come visit me. Same deal as I had with
you. A hotel room for when and if you need it and an invitation to join me at my
house should you so choose.’

‘Logan—’

‘Don’t say no. It won’t cost you anything but your time.
First-class travel, with a stopover at, say, a landmark hotel in Dubai?’

‘Are you serious?’

‘Do you feel valued yet?’

‘Remind me to tell you the difference between being valued and
being bought.’

‘Does that mean you
don’t
want to
experience the delights of a seven-star hotel?’

‘Wash your mouth out,’ she said. ‘It could mean I never
actually reach London.’

‘
Now
who’s feeling
undervalued?’

‘Hey, you started this,’ she reminded him. ‘Will you
join
me at the hotel in Dubai?’

‘You don’t like us together in hotel rooms, remember?’

‘I’d like us in this one.’

‘How does next week sound?’

‘I can’t do next week,’ she said with a grimace she was glad
Logan couldn’t see. ‘We’ll know if we landed the civic centre job by Wednesday
next week and I want to be here to either celebrate or commiserate.’

‘Hnh.’ Logan sounded ever so slightly annoyed.

‘Don’t people ever say no to you?’ she murmured.

‘People often say no to me,’ he countered. ‘My job is getting
them to change their minds.’

‘I’m not going to change my mind.’

‘I know that, Evie. Hence the hnh. I’m just thinking ahead to
what’s coming up on
my
schedule that I can move
around, that’s all.’

‘Oh.’ It wouldn’t hurt for her to give some credit to the
pressures of
his
job while she was busy getting him
to consider the challenges of hers. ‘You’ll be working through the day while I’m
there, though, right? Same deal as when you were here and I went to work only
this time I fit in around you?’

‘You don’t want to spend the entire week in Dubai?’